Nine Minutes to Vulcan
by Cameron Rice Connors
Summary: Set in the early 24th century (Prime Universe), "Nine Minutes to Vulcan" follows the maiden voyage of USS Excelsior NX-2000-A, a Ganymede class deep space exploration vessel commanded by one Timothy Hayden, an offbeat commanding officer known for his easy going attitude combined with steel resolve and inspiring determination.
1. Chapter 1

Stardate 2419.06

McKinley orbital station, Sector 001

05:33 GMT

She found the silence soothing. A majestic observation lounge, which could hold hundreds, was, at this early hour almost completely empty. _So fitting_, she thought. Emptiness was almost a way of life for her, or at least has been, ever since the day the first person she truly cared for left, realizing she could never compete with that which was, in fact, her one true love – her career as a Starfleet officer. _Married to the job_, they infamously called it, and Commander Jessica Boorman was the epitome of that cliché.

She sat by a large transparent aluminum screen, staring at the vast docking bay filled with roughly dozen ships of different classes and sizes, and even though she was looking right through them, one particular vessel briefly caught her attention. NX-2000-A, the Excelsior. A _Ganymede_ class research cruiser looked almost like a luxury liner, she mused. The huge, elegant tail that extended from between the nacelles, and housed two next generation impulse engines was reminiscent of ancient Earth aircraft, and held no apparent practical purpose. _Somewhere along the way Starfleet actually embraced aesthetics, huh. Form over function. Gotta be a first._ This had to be one of the most beautiful man-made structures she ever laid eyes on...

"This seat taken?"A man in his late forties stood above her with a silliest grin...Boorman couldn't help but to roll her eyes and smile. Timothy Hayden and she had quite a history together. Four years of serving under him aboard the USS _Republic _made him feel something like an elder brother to her, caring yet authoritative, goofy yet rarely wrong. About pretty much anything. He was her superior then, a ship's XO, and through those four years he saw her work her way up from deputy ops to chief of security. That was before Captain Ellington of the _Sinai_ stole her and made her first mate, a position she held to this day.

"Heard you got passed for promotion again. They gave The _Tar'Hanna_ to that creep Ronak. The guycouldn't hold a candle to you, Jess, you know this, right?" The expression on her face made him realize he misread her completely.

"How do you and Carrie do it?" Hayden heard pain in her voice and saw sadness in her blue eyes. A situation more than just familiar to him, practically a deja-vu. Knowing her for so long, he knew all about her chronic inability to keep those she cared for from leaving. It was as if Jessica Boorman was sentenced to loneliness. On the outside, this woman was a rock, and she acted like one too, but he knew better.

"Carrie knew who... What she was marrying from the get go. Now, you know I'd be lying if I said my absence was never an issue between us, but... I don't know, there are days when I miss her and the boys like crazy and start asking myself 'what's the point?' I mean, I could be playing catch with Josh and Eric right now, but instead I'm in the middle of god knows where, doing nebulae surveys and god knows what else... But this is who I am, hell; THIS is who Carrie fell for in the first place..."

"And the boys look up to you", Jessica said, with a warm and sincere smile.

"Yeah, they do." Timothy smiled back. A brief pause ensued, and they both found each other staring at the sublime space vessel at the other side of the screen.

"Jess..." he muttered, than waited for her to face him. She did, looking puzzled. "What... What are your long term plans at this point?"

"Why do you want to know?" she asked back, suspecting what was to follow, yet she showed cautious restraint, not wanting to get ahead of herself. That familiar _don't-mess-with-me _look on her face made him get to the point.

"I haven't selected my XO yet. You up for it?" She looked at the Excelsior once again and took a deep breath. A moment passed, and she faced Timothy again.

"Just when I thought I was finally rid of you".


	2. Chapter 2

Stardate 2419.11

San Francisco, California (Earth)

17:39 PST

Early September was Christian Sammler's favorite time of the year, at least as far as his home planet was concerned. Even though the summer was nearing its end, the heat barely ceded, and there was something truly magical about that warm, golden afternoon light, which made the beauty of Federation's capital stand out even more. It was also a perfect time to go for a run, perhaps an hour too early, but Christian didn't mind the high temperatures, having spent the better part of his adolescence jogging through the hellish outskirts of Shir'khar, planet Vulcan's largest city.

He wore a grey hooded shirt made of thin fabric, with an inscription on the back saying "Starfleet Sci & Tech Division". This had been his home for the past year and a half, and while he didn't exactly dislike it there, surrounded with all those kindred minds and playing with all those amazing toys and gadgets, he felt that it was time to move on. Earth was never going to be his last stop. His ambition was deep space from the moment he decided to drop out of the Vulcan Science Academy to join Starfleet.

He was nine miles into his run, heart pounding, his hoodie soaked in sweat. His short brown hair was disheveled, his green eyes was projecting nothing but sheer determination to go that extra mile. Every leap was a victory, every second shaved off a triumph, but this was not a battle against the clock so much as it was his way of blowing off steam. It felt invigorating, but it also drained him.

Having reached the cliffs of Presidio, he stopped to catch a breath, took a bottle of water that was hanging from his waist belt and splashed some on his face. The view was beyond spectacular. Hard to believe the Golden Gate Bridge had been standing here, spanning the Golden Gate strait, for nearly half a millennia. He would relish at the sight for another minute or two, then head back. Just as he was about to, a buzzing sound coming from his comm badge interrupted him:

"Starfleet to Lt. Sammler, please acknowledge."

"Sammler here."

"Lieutenant, you are to report to Admiral Sarkisian at the Starfleet S&T, ASAP."

"Understood. Sammler out." _Admiral Sarkisian?_ He looked confounded. He headed back on the double, anxious to see what this thing was all about. Some twenty five minutes later he was there, at the base of the marvelous 55-story skyscraper - the Charles A. Tucker building, named after one of the early heroes of the Federation. He took the turbolift, exited on the 42nd floor, and proceeded down the long, brightly lit corridor. He saluted a pair of senior officers that he passed by and stopped at Admiral Sarkisian's secretary's desk at the end of the hallway.

"Lieutenant Sammler, here to see Admiral Sarkisian."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant, she's expecting you", a Bolian woman in her late twenties replied in a kind voice. As the glass doors swooshed open, he entered.

"Admiral Sarkisian, I apologize for my appearance, I was... "Sarkisian raised her right hand, shushing him.

"No need, Lieutenant, nice to see you keep in shape. I'd offer you a seat, but I reckon you'd rather stand."

"I would."

"All right, let's get right to it then. You've heard of NX 2000-A, the Excelsior, yes?"

"Of course, ma'am, _Ganymede_ class, top of the line, due to launch..."

"Tomorrow morning." She interrupted him.

"About an hour ago I got a call from Captain Timothy Hayden, Excelsior's CO, saying his science officer jumped ship at the last moment, and asked me if I by any chance had a suitable replacement. Too short a notice, I said I'd get back to him." Sammler went pale.

"I went through some names, yours came up." Her tone was dead serious. "Knowing Hayden, he'd want someone young and driven, and from what Commander Paulson tells me, you're dying to get out of here." Poor guy was speechless.

"It'll likely just be a temporary assignment," she continued, "but it'll look good in your service record." He remained mute. She gave him a moment.

"Well?"

"Of course, ma'am. Absolutely!" His voice was practically cracking, he looked frightened. _A science officer? _

"A shuttle for McKinley station leaves at 20:00, hangar bay 47. That would be all."

Christian barely got the chance to say anything, things were happening way too fast. He took two steps towards the door, when she stopped him: "Christian, you're not gonna make me look like a buffoon out there, are you?"

"No, ma'am, I won't let you down, you have my word". He allowed himself to smile, his heart still ponding like a hammer. "Thank you, ma'am."

Sarkissian smiled back and nodded. "Dismissed, Lieutenant."

As the doors swooshed shut behind him, he paused, still not fully aware of what just happened in there. He found himself shaking. He wasn't sure if he hadn't just fallen for one of those famous practical jokes his collages pulled on one another from time to time. God knows some of them were capable. Maybe the Bolian was in on it, and the 'Admiral' was no more than a convincing hologram... Then he realized that this was just him being insecure, even though he knew. Deep within he knew he earned it; he worked his ass off for a break like this.

_But a science officer?_

As the notion sunk in, a sudden urge to run washed over him. He wanted to sprint down the hall and scream _"Wohoo!"_ like a madman, but he composed himself instead, and took another deep breath. Must have been his twentieth in the last five minutes or so.

Stardate 2419.11

Starfleet HQ, San Francisco, California

(hangar bay 47)

19:54 PST

Fillis Benyan was standing next to an unmanned shuttle pod, waiting for Commander Thoral's last minute replacement to show up. Turns out that directorial position at the Daystrom Institute became vacant (_Someone must have died or something, _he figured), and Thoral was offered the Chair. This wasn't something an ambitious person would just pass up, especially a highly experienced one. One who, having spent all those years on deep space missions, by now probably got fed up with active duty.

Benyan was secretly pleased with this development, considering his disdain for the arrogant Andorian. Hell, everyone on that ship probably felt the same way, even the Captain, who most likely only took him on for his age. Captain Hayden was well known for preferring to work with younger officers; some even openly resented him for it. Putting Thoral in charge of Sci was his way of making sure Starfleet brass was off his back. He valued drive over experience, whilst the brass had it the other way around. If this hadn't been the case, neither him, nor this Sammler guy would have been picked for the job, of this there was little doubt.

His musings were interrupted when a human male wearing a teal Starfleet uniform with the collar pips that of a lieutenant junior grade and a grey duffel bag on his right shoulder appeared at the hangar bay entrance. He was about five feet ten, perhaps five eleven, and he looked young. Early, perhaps mid-twenties, he reckoned. _That's him, alright._

"You must be Lieutenant Sammler. Fillis Benyan, operations." The grin on his face stroke Christian as genuine, so he reciprocated, and extended his right hand for a shake.

"Pleased to meet you, lieutenant." '_Benyan_'? The name sounded Bajoran, but Christian didn't see any creases on lieutenant's nose bridge.

"Betazoid?"

"What gave me away?" Benyan's grin was even wider now. The giveaway was obvious. On the outside, the Terrans and the Betazoid were virtually indistinguishable from one another. The only visible difference was in their irises, pitch black, making them appear as if their pupils were dilated at all times. Lieutenant Benyan was dark-skinned, almost an exact same height as Sammler and spoke in a soft voice. His hair was trimmed short and he wore full-lieutenant pips on his gold-colored collar. He also appeared very young, but since he wasn't human, Christian couldn't be sure.

The two men entered the shuttle's cockpit, strapped themselves in, with Benyan on the left, taking the helm. Sammler seemed a bit antsy as they lifted off and breached the stratosphere. It wasn't the flying that bothered him, he'd done it hundreds of times before, sometimes even by himself (although these weren't the fondest of memories). The thing is, he never really felt comfortable around members of telepathic species' (not counting the ever-composed Vulcans), especially Betazoid who were famous, perhaps even a bit infamous for their abilities. You couldn't hide anything from these people, no matter how much effort you put into blocking them. Sure, some of the more mentally disciplined humans were able to resist most forms of non-invasive mind probing, but those were mostly intelligence operatives, definitely not Starfleet rookies like himself.

"You do know about our no-intrusion doctrine, right?" Benyan asked.

"What?" Christian was absent-minded.

"The Betazoid doctrine? The one prohibiting my people from probing other people's thoughts without their explicit permission?"

"You seem like you're reading me right now". Christian sounded apprehensive. Benyan laughed.

"Don't worry lieutenant, I wouldn't even I wanted to. And trust me, hearing other people's thoughts isn't really that much fun. It quickly grows awkward, often even downright embarrassing. Plus, this doctrine of ours isn't just some 'dead letter'; the concept of privacy is entirely sacred to us. It's the heightened emotions that we pick up whether we wanted to or not."

"Yes, I know all about the famous Betazoid empathy..." Christian didn't sound assured. "Honestly, how much of a difference is there, between hearing what I'm thinking, and knowing exactly what I'm feeling? Shouldn't emotions be private as well?"

"Yes, I suppose they should... But, like I said, don't worry. I don't empathize and tell." Christian couldn't help breaking a laugh.

"It's not really your natural gift that makes me anxious, lieutenant..."

"Ben. Call me Ben. And don't sweat it, I'd be nervous too if my first ever starship posting was as ship's chief science officer." Benyan saw right through this harmless little white lie of Sammler's, and decided not to call him on it. About time this human relaxed a little.

"It's just for the time being, though." Christian's modesty was sincere.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. Captain Hayden is an all right guy. Just make sure you don't screw up too much and too often, and he just might keep you on."

_This one sure is an optimist_, Christian thought, and decided he liked the guy.

Silence ensued, as they began their final approach at the gigantic space station. Benyan brought the speed down to one quarter impulse, then disengaged the impulse engines entirely and proceeded through station's massive gates on thrusters only.

Sammler couldn't take his eyes off the vessel that revealed itself before him. He wasn't one of those engineering nerds who revered space craft as if they were deities and spent countless hours studying schematics, no. But the sheer elegance of the Excelsior took his breath away. The tail that extended from the secondary hull upward reminded him of a shark fin, although the ship looked anything but menacing. He glanced at Ben and saw that he too was mesmerized. He must have seen it from up here dozens of times by now, yet he still managed to enjoy the view. Christian suddenly felt grateful for being flown up here by a shuttle, and not simply transported aboard.

Ben tapped the console before him and hailed the ship: "USS Excelsior, this is shuttle pod Athena, requesting permission to come aboard."

"Athena, you are cleared to enter, proceed to shuttle bay two. Excelsior out."


End file.
